


She is the Sun

by ohelrond



Series: Until the Breaking of the World [4]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M, Heterosexual sex can actually be something that's so personal, I just love them, PWP, Sex, Twilight Renaissance, new moon carlesme can't relate im sorry they just cant xx, remember how beautiful emse and carlisle were in twilight, what is it about this relationship that is so appealing to me as a lesbian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26758918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohelrond/pseuds/ohelrond
Summary: Carlisle and Esme have some alone-time while the rest of the family is at prom. They have sex in the forest and they really love each other a lot.Set at the end of Twilight, it really is some classic PWP. Esme and Carlisle were the first ship I ever wrote PWP on ff.net, and here I am 11 years later living the same life.
Relationships: Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen
Series: Until the Breaking of the World [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959850
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	She is the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the first erotica I have written in a very, very, VERY long time and the first fic in almost as long. Like many of you, no doubt, I am still in lockdown and COVID-19 has turned my life upside down absolutely for the worse. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank Ms Meyer for Mormon vampires and the publication of Midnight Sun, and for all the juicy details it has revealed about Esme and Carlisle. Of course, this is porn without plot and none of that is relevant here. Shoutout to all the fabulous writers who have posted multi-chapter fics and kept me going during this Twilight Renaissance, it could NEVER be me my luvlies xx
> 
> Please do let me know if this is enjoyable by leaving a kudos or comment, as during this time of global trauma, it really is the little things that make a huge difference. 
> 
> Oh, and I hate titles. Even after 11 years of writing fanfic, titles remain an undefeated enemy.

The house was quiet. Outside, the gentle pitter-patter of rain filled the air. Drops fell from the sky in their millions, landing on the green leaves and needles, the rich earth, and soaked bark, drenching the world. 

Alice had promised that they would go hunting after the prom was over. Her and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett. Edward would stay with Bella, as he always did. Since Phoenix, he barely left her side, and it was understandable. Any of the others would have been the same if they were in his shoes. None of them envied him for it. 

Rosalie had looked so beautiful when they left in her scarlet car. His first daughter, Carlisle found few faults in Rose. Where others saw vanity, Carlisle saw the fierce love Rosalie had for herself and celebration of the life she resented, and although Edward loved Rosalie, he didn’t understand. Emmett accepted her, but found her difficult to comprehend, too. She and Carlisle had an easy understanding, and their bond was tight. Carlisle would always think himself above having favourites out of his children, but Rosalie and Edward were the stars in his sky. 

If Rosalie and Edward were the stars, then Esme was the sun. 

Esme had adapted to the modern world better than he. Where books and manuscripts held his attention in a way television never could, she happily invested in the latest computers, the cutting edge devices that facilitated her wildest and most ambitious projects. He couldn’t deny the enormous impact it had on saving lives, but outside of the hospital, he didn’t find joy in it in the same way his family did. Once he had commented that perhaps he was too much of an old dog to learn new tricks, and Jasper, the oldest after him, had protested with a laugh that Carlisle could speak for himself. 

It did not surprise him that, the very moment his thoughts drift to Esme, Carlisle heard the quiet purr of her computer turning on. He wondered for a moment if she had realised they would have the house to themselves until dawn. A glance at his watch told him it was barely seven in the evening. 

He moved away from the window in his dark office and flitted to the door that connected to Esme’s. It was always open. She glanced up at him over the computer screens that wrapped around her workspace, and smiled. 

Even now, her smile blinded him. The most beautiful creature, and she saved her brightest smiles for him. 

“I’ve found a new project in the town,” she said, happiness radiating from her. Esme was so pleased when she had projects. “Come see.” 

Carlisle was stood behind her chair in half a second, eyes on the curved screen in front of her. She pointed with her finger at the listing for a small two-bedroom home on the northern outskirts of Forks. It was dated and it looked like no one had taken a paint brush to it in thirty years. Bending slightly to hover his face close to hers, both looking in the same direction, he couldn’t help but turn and gently kiss her cheek. She smiled and leaned into him. 

“It’s a small project, but enough to keep me busy during the summer,” she remarked, clicking through the photos. Floors needed replacing, the bathroom was half ripped out, and there was damp in some of the ceilings. “Rosalie has said she’d like to help, so she’ll come to the viewing with me.”

Decades had gone by since their first touch, their first kiss, their first love, but even now Carlisle struggled to keep a clear mind when he was this close to her. His hands found their way to run down her arms, and his long fingers laced through hers as his eyes closed. Knowing they had the house to themselves did not help his concentration. “Will Rosalie do the electrics?” he asked in a low voice, a smile playing around his lips. He found his own attempt at innocence amusing. 

Esme turned her to rest her forehead against his temple. “Not in a town this small,” she said lightly, beaming and returning her gaze to the screen. It felt wonderful to be encircled by Carlisle’s arms. “I think people would talk if I let my eighteen year old daughter rewire an entire house. I don’t know what would be gossiped about more, if a safety inspection was failed, or passed. No, I’ll get a contractor in.” 

“Of course,” he murmured. “How remiss of me.” 

Strong hands suddenly spun Esme’s chair around so her back was to the computer screen, and she was facing her husband instead. Esme laughed. “Dr Cullen, I’m quite busy. It’s rare the house is this quiet and I was hoping to take full advantage of the fact.”

“So was I.” 

Esme couldn’t stop herself from shaking her head and laughing again. “What a line. Where did you pick that up from, one of the boys? Or one of the shows they watch?” 

Carlisle had never been a smooth talker. In moments of sincerity he was perfect, but any attempts of seduction, Esme thought, were far better from him when words weren’t involved. Not that she minded much, as he had good humour when any attempts fell flat. Her amusement never negated her kindness in such moments. 

As if hearing her thoughts, he knelt before her and ran his elegant hands up from her knees to her waist, following the curve of her thighs and hips. He briefly mourned over the tight skirt that barred his touch from her skin. “Oh, I hear all sorts here and there. Some things work, some clearly don’t.”

“Clearly,” Esme echoed with laughter in her voice. 

Carlisle answered her smile and sighed blissfully. “I do love, you know.” 

A gentle hand came to stroke his shining hair. “I  _ do _ know.” 

He caught her hand and brought it down to his lips, and he pressed a kiss to her wrist. She watched as his mouth lingered against her hard skin, and when his kisses came to her fingertips, she bit her lip. Gently, he sucked her fingertip, and met her gaze. His eyes were darker now. 

“Carlisle,” she murmured, voice lower than before. “I do need to finish this form. The agent asked for it to be completed by eight this evening, else she wouldn’t be able to accept my offer.” 

Her husband let out a sigh, but it was close enough to a laugh that neither of their smiles dimmed. “Of course. I’ll leave you to it.” 

He made to get to his feet but she grasped the collar of his shirt before he could straighten up. Golden eyes brightened. “Keep me company, Carlisle.” 

It wasn’t a request, but he had to decline her anyway. “My darling, I don’t think you understand.” When she gave him a questioning look, Carlisle grinned. “The prospect of an empty house and having you alone to myself is quite the distraction. If I remain close enough to touch you, if I can even  _ see  _ you, I won’t be able to stop myself from trying to distract you. And you have a deal to close.” 

Esme was tempted to tell him that there was a line that certainly worked, and if she had been able to, she would have blushed. But instead she just bit her lip again and smiled, ducking her head closer to the computer screen where he could not catch her eye. Nearly a hundred years old and he could still make her feel like a young woman having love for the first time. He left her to her task, smiling broadly as he closed the door on his way out. 

The work was her joy, though, and she could easily throw herself into it. Whilst it was mostly Carlisle who had accumulated the family’s wealth throughout his long life, and Alice played the stock market like a fiddle, Esme’s financial contributions were notable. Some of her renovations had brought huge profits, proving that she was good at it,  _ really _ good. With so many ugly builds on the market, though, it shouldn’t be a surprise that her classic and clean taste sold so well. This house would be no different. The thought made her grin wide as she typed through her email and completed the formal offer. Halfway through sketching out a basic floorplan change on one of her other screens, and the confirmation came through: Esme Cullen was the proud owner of a new home.  _ Home _ was a strong word given the sorry state of the thing, but it was satisfying nonetheless. 

The whirring of the computers slowed as she shut them down one by one an hour later, and she stood up to stretch. It wasn’t needed in the way humans needed it, but it brought her back to her physical self after spending a long time concentrating. Esme wiggled her fingers and toes, stretched out her arms and legs, and twisted at the waist. Ah, yes. Much better. Already she felt connected to her body again, and in total control. 

The house was quiet, and outside the soft twilight light filtered through the trees. She held herself very still as she strained to hear any sound of her husband. The whir of the electrics in the house faded into the background, as did the soft patter of rain against the roof, and out on the road cars rolled lazily by. There was no sound of clothes rustling against hard skin, no whisper of movement. She blinked, and flitted to the door that separated her office from her husband’s. No, he wasn’t in there. 

“Carlisle?” she asked curiously, not raising her voice. He would hear if he was in the house or garage. 

“Lounge,” he replied softly, answering her unasked question. “I heard you finish. Will you come down, or should I come to you?” 

Esme laughed lightly at his attachment. It was wonderful to be so easy about their affection now. The others saw them as parental figures, and as such teased them more about their affection than they did each other. Over the years, whilst it had perhaps only been meant humorously, it had meant Carlisle and Esme were more discreet than their family members to avoid any awkwardness. A touch here, a kiss there, nothing more lest they make the others uncomfortable. But now the house was theirs, they could indulge themselves. 

Lazily, as if she had all the time in the world, Esme wandered into her husband’s office without answering him. The wall of paintings stretched high above her, and she let her fingers ghost over the oil and canvas and wood frames of each one she passed. One of the largest she stopped in front of. Gaudy, Emmett had described it, and fabulously ostentatious had been Alice’s estimation.  _ Aro’s Gift _ , as it had come to be known by the family, had pride of place in the centre of the wall, low enough that Esme could face it at eye level. She ran her cool hand over the crowd depicted there, feeling the raised and bumpy texture of the old paint, and she found her touch winding its way to their familiar place on the balcony. She loved Carlisle in this picture. 

Against the stark colours of the Volturi in the foreground, the unearthly beauty in his white-and-gold appearance was captivating, his expression open and warm as he looked over the scene. Whilst the three ancient vampires held court, imposing and frightening and beautiful, Carlisle had something of the human about him. No human was he, but no ancient, either. How marvelously he danced on the cusp between. 

Esme felt the air move and heard the rustle of fabric, and then strong hands were on her waist and cool breath was against her ear. 

“You didn’t answer me,” Carlisle murmured softly, and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

“I didn’t need to,” she answered, leaning back against him. He was so tall behind her, and his broad chest made her feel so safe. “You came running.” 

A whoosh of air left Carlisle in a quiet laugh through his nose, and gently he caught her ear between his teeth. Her lips parted and she wound a hand up to hold at the back of his neck, touching the golden hair there. With her other hand, she still had her fingers on his figure in paint. 

“You never liked this picture, did you?” she asked, tilting her head to the side to give him better access to her neck. “I think it’s quite lovely.” 

Carlisle glanced up at where her fingers rested, before pressing a kiss against his wife’s exposed neck. “Mmm.” 

His hands wound around her stomach to hug her close against him and she laughed, enjoying the embrace. “You look so handsome. Such fine clothes, too. I imagine they wouldn’t be the most practical to live in, though. Work, hunting, driving. Imagine the looks you would get filling up the car in such attire.” 

They both laughed and he held her closer to him, his chest against her back. One hand kept her close, and the other ran up the length of her torso and back down again. “By God, Esme, I love you,” he whispered, laughter still in his voice. “You make me so happy, I can hardly bear it.”

If Esme’s heart had not been frozen, it would have skipped a beat. “I know,” came her happy reply, joy in her smile. Turning in his arms, she looked up into his golden eyes and cupped his cheeks. “And I love you. More than anything.” 

Carlisle nodded in agreement. He loved his family, his work, his life, without condition and without competition. But he loved Esme more. After he met Edward, he never thought it would have been possible to love anyone more than he loved his son, but he had been wrong. Before Esme, the world had been in shadow, and then she came. Esme was the sun. 

When she reached up on her toes and gently pulled him down to meet her, his breath escaped him. Their lips fit together in a blinding kiss, her hand winding into his hair and holding him firm, his hands pressed at the small of her back. He parted her lips and she tasted his tongue, curving her body against his in response. The venom in his mouth made her weak; he wanted her, and she could taste it. He groaned quietly when she bit his lip and slightly pulled away. 

“Carlisle,” she murmured slowly, the sound in the back of her throat. He stroked her cheek as desire coursed through him and made his mind fuzzy. 

“Do you know why I don’t like that painting?” he asked in a low voice. Esme felt his fingers press gently over her backside. 

“A number of reasons, I expect.” Carlisle’s scent enveloped her and filled her completely, and she couldn’t draw her gaze away from his lips. She loved the way they curved around every word, she loved how he made such movements on her skin. Their conversation was slowly being lost as the need between them grew. 

“Yes,” he agreed. Esme moved back when he made to kiss her, and he titled his head to the side in confusion at the motion, but a low noise escaped him when suddenly her face was at his neck and her lips pressed against his skin. He grasped her backside firmly when her kisses lingered at the sensitive spot just below his ear. “A number of reasons. I know what would happen to many of the revellers in the painting, and I know the misery the men I stood beside caused.”

Esme’s kisses did not falter. One hand grasped his chin and he lifted it as she guided him. His reward was her lips against his throat. His mouth opened in a silent moan and he felt his eyes roll back. “And I didn’t have you.” 

Esme ran her hand from his jaw down to his chest and dragged her finger along the buttons of his shirt. Each button popped off, one by one, and she made quick work of snapping his belt. His shirt fell open and Esme ran her hands over her husband’s bare chest, his strong stomach. The desire she held for him had only grown over their long years together, and she clutched onto his biceps. 

Her words came in a whisper as she leaned up and their faces were inches apart. “You have me now. What will you do with me?” 

“I’ll love you,” he murmured. His broad hands ran up her back and tore open her shirt, fingers gliding over her bare skin. Esme smiled and shook her head slightly.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

Carlisle had never been good at voicing his desires. But he tried for her, and he knew what she wanted to hear. It was difficult to say the words looking at her in the eye. 

One hand flew to the back of her head and he pulled her close to whisper in her ear. “I’m going to fuck you.” 

The spark had been lit. 

With inhuman speed Esme flung open the window of the library and pulled him with her to fly into the forest. He caught her in his arms before they had hit the ground, and their mouths locked in fierce kisses. She whined as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, tasting her venom and swallowing her moans, and her legs wrapped around his waist as he ran into the dense woodland. She ground herself against him and shuddered as she felt him hard against her. 

Only seconds passed before he stopped and threw her to the ground. The shirt that hung from her shoulders was torn away by eager hands, and the sound of her ripping skirt rang through the damp forest. Carlisle sank to his stomach and buried his face between his wife’s thighs. 

Esme lay back on the needles and leaves of the forest floor and wound her fingers into Carlisle’s shining hair. Whilst strong hands pushed her legs apart, his tongue licked between her folds, pushing deeper until it plunged inside of her. She cried out when he tilted his jaw and his nose ground against her clit. Carlisle dragged his lips from her wet entrance and when he flicked his tongue hard and fast over her clit, she moaned his name loudly enough to set birds in the trees flying. 

He set a relentless pace that had her trembling quickly and he knew it. Every movement she made was familiar and exciting, and he knew how to draw it out. Ignoring the strain between his legs, he pushed her further and further, three fingers sliding inside her and curling until she was straining against him. Her thighs tensed in warning, and he pulled away. 

“No!” she begged in a shout. At her side, her hands dug into the dirt and she twisted in momentary agony, denied her orgasm. A whine sounded in her throat and she looked down at Carlisle between her thighs with resentment and absolute need. He loved to play her like this. “You torture me?” 

Carlisle’s eyes sparkled with delight. It was impossible to resist her, and in one quick movement he was on his feet and pushing her roughly against the thick trunk of a nearby tree. It creaked, but held. Esme’s eyes were filled with nothing but raw desire. She trusted him completely, and it unhinged her when he was unrefined like this. 

Again, he was on his knees before her. Practiced hands pulled her leg over his shoulder and his face found its place between her thighs. This was where he belonged, kneeling before the sun. 

His cock strained painfully against his trousers, and with one hand supporting Esme, he tore them off with the other. Her eyes were closed but she heard the rip under the sound of her whines and it made her mouth water. “More,” she pleaded. She threw her head back and the bark of the tree exploded behind her. The trunk creaked again and dead leaves were sent flying into the air, but it held. “Give me more, Carlisle.” 

The sound of her begging his name was almost enough to make him spill, and he moaned loudly against her clit. Her body jerked in response but he knew she was not finished. Swallowing her taste, he licked a quick line up her stomach and he tore away with his teeth the remainder of her skirt. They both stood, bare, in each other’s arms. He pressed against her as he kissed her fiercely, and Esme held him tight as she tasted herself, and felt his cock against her stomach. In one fluid motion he lifted her in his arms and she reached between them to guide herself onto him. 

To feel her soaked warmth around him was to feel heaven. Carlisle jerked hard up into her as he pressed her back against the tree, and she nodded in encouragement. “More,” she begged, caramel curls dancing around her pretty face. The strain in her body made lines appear in her forehead and Carlisle grinned. His kind, sweet wife, asking to be fucked hard; he could not resist. 

He set a furious pace and matched his thrusts with fingers circling her clit. Her arm locked around his neck but he could shift enough to lean down and kiss her soft breasts. His reward was a strain of praises and moans when he sucked and licked her nipples. 

Before long, the tree Carlisle fucked his wife against gave way. With an almighty crash, it fell through the air and sent rain and leaves and dirt flying. He made to throw her against the moss and bark of a nearby one but Esme couldn’t bear it. She needed him harder and deeper. With a final hard kiss to his mouth, she slipped from his arms and knelt in the moss and leaves of the forest floor. Carlisle choked as she looked at him over her shoulder, on her hands and knees and back curved. 

“Please,” she begged again. He was powerless but to comply. Usually he liked to see his wife’s face like this, but she needed this more. With as much force and speed as he had, Carlisle set a relentless pace, his cock finding no resistance in her. Soon, her elbows gave way and she buried her face into her arms, moaning and whining. The sound of her voice mingled with his, and he cried out her name again and again, pleasure whipping through him like a fire. 

As he felt them both growing close, Carlisle leaned over Esme and pushed his nose into her hair, filling himself with her scent and breathing hard close to her ear. He knew how much she loved to hear him moan her name so close. She voiced her approval in a high voice, the words catching in her throat, and when his hand returned to massage between her legs in time with his thrusts, the noise she made sent trembles rolling through Carlisle. Love making was their usual approach, and they rarely fucked like this. 

When Carlisle tweaked his fingers between her legs, and his other hand pulled at her nipple, her muscles began to contract around him. She cried out his name, and moans came with almost every movement, and Carlisle’s eyes rolled back into his head when she begged him to keep going, just like that, don’t stop, just there, don’t-

Her orgasm ripped through her and blinded her, rocking her body forward and sending tremors down her back and through her limbs, like lightning and thunder and storms, overwhelming her and crashing over her. Her throat burned as she shouted and moaned Carlisle’s name, and he answered her with cries of hers, and seed spilling inside of her. 

As he slowed his hips, his fingers, too, slowed, and they gradually came down together, Esme needing longer than he. With a low grunt, he pulled out from her and she felt soft kisses down her spine. After a long moment of his gentle caresses and soft words, she opened her eyes and sat back in a kneeling position. Warmth had spread through her like sunlight, and she sighed deeply, turning her hazy gaze to her husband. 

“Hello,” she murmured, laughter in her voice. She imagined this was what it was like to wake up after an incredibly good nap. Given the ability to lose oneself in it, perhaps good sex was as close to sleep as vampires could get. 

Carlisle shifted closer to her and rested his forehead against her temple. “Hello, love.” 

“I think we needed that,” she remarked, and she closed her eyes. Nothing existed but him for now. His fingers still traced her back. He answered her with a kiss to her cheek. 

For a long moment they sat on the forest floor like that, not noticing the misty rain or the stars in the sky, or the fallen tree and debris around them. Only when, in the distance, an owl hooted, did they start to come back, together, to reality. Esme was the first to stand, and Carlisle dragged his eyes up his wife’s soft, pale frame, bare in the summer night. Every curve, every shadow, he knew by memory, but to see her stood in the night light like this was a rare, dazzling, gift. He took her outstretched hand and kissed her lovingly where they stood. 

“I didn’t know you needed it like that,” he remarked as they began their slow walk back to the house. Here and there they stopped to retrieve strewn items of clothing, but their fingers remained interlocked. 

Esme smiled coyly and glanced up at him through long lashes. “Neither did I. But you do that to me.”

Her sweet doctor, her preacher’s son, who loved to read books and save lives, who loved to bury his face between her thighs, and have her until she sobbed. It was a blessing Edward was not close to hear those thoughts, but they were thoughts impossible to silence. Since she first met him as a child at 16 she had thought highly of him, and imagined him to be a doting and loving husband. Even after he created her and guided her into this new life as a mentor and friend, even on the day of their wedding, Esme didn’t dare dream he would fuck her so well. She tried to bite back a smile at the thought. 

Carlisle squeezed her hand as the house came back into sight, and as they wandered up the drive he looked at her properly, not just as his beloved wife but as a person who was about to enter their pristine home. They were both wet from the rain, and muddy, too. 

“We look most uncivilised,” he joked, pointing to their reflection in the glass window as they approached the steps to the porch. 

“Oh!” she gasped, but it was quickly followed by a delighted laugh. “We haven’t looked like this in a long time!” 

“I suppose we could hose ourselves down before going inside,” Carlisle mused, nodding his head towards the hose hidden down the side of the house. That was Emmett’s chosen method when he came home from a messy hunt, or messy… otherwise, and Alice and Rosalie took great delight in spraying him down like a muddy dog, but that was a little undignified for Esme. 

“I think not,” she laughed lightly. “We can mop after ourselves later, and it only needs to be one set of footprints.” She pulled on his hand in encouragement and he needed no further request to sweep her into his arms. Cradling her close, they kissed, long and sweet and deep. “We had better shower together. No sense in wasting water.” 

Carlisle nodded and smiled indulgently. He kissed her again, and in the safety of his arms, carried her home.


End file.
